From Deadbeat noble to Top Rank Swordsman-Chapter 102: Aftermath

The wind returned first.

A soft, chilled breeze drifting across broken stone and scorched dirt. It carried ash and silence. Above, the clouds parted slowly, revealing scattered stars—faint and dim.

Leon sat with his back against a cracked slab, sword across his lap, eyes half-lidded. His wounds ached with every breath, but he refused to close them. Not yet.

Across from him, Elena moved carefully between the wounded. Mira assisted her, wrapping bandages, casting minor healing spells when she had the mana to spare. Tomas sat beside Alden, who groaned softly but was alive. Callen had been pulled out from beneath the rubble. He breathed.

That was enough.

Aelia lay in the center, propped up against a boulder, her cloak wrapped around her shoulders. Her face was pale but alert. She hadn’t spoken much since waking.

She didn’t need to.

They all felt the weight.

"How long until the next wave?" Mira asked, her voice strained.

"There is no next wave," Aelia said finally. Her tone held no pride, only certainty. "That was it. The creature was the final trial."

Tomas frowned. "You’re sure?"

Aelia nodded once. "I would feel it. And the seals are silent now."

Elena looked up from her healing. "Then we hold here. Rest. Regroup."

Leon didn’t move. He just listened.

It wasn’t over. Not really. Even if this battle had ended, the war beyond still raged. Somewhere beyond these shattered hills, the kingdom was still burning. But for now, for this night, they had survived.

"Leon," Aelia said.

He turned.

"You did more than I expected."

He didn’t answer at first. Then:

"So did you."

She offered a faint smile.

He didn’t return it. His eyes drifted toward the ridge. Toward the crater.

"You think it’ll stay dead?" Tomas asked.

Leon nodded. "I made sure."

No one questioned it.

The hours stretched. Stars brightened. No more monsters came. No more light tore through the sky.

Just the sound of breathing.

And for the first time in days—

Stillness.

A fire burned low near the edge of the ridge, more for warmth than light. Mira had started it with a flick of flint and magic, and now it crackled quietly, casting long shadows across the ruined battlefield. The others sat in a loose circle around it, too exhausted to talk, too relieved to sleep.

Leon stood a little apart, arms crossed, watching the flames dance. His body protested every movement, but rest wouldn’t come. Not with the image of Aelia’s fall still etched behind his eyes.

She lived. That should’ve been enough.

But something in him didn’t settle.

Aelia noticed. Her gaze tracked him as he paced once, twice, then stopped.

"You’ve done your part," she said, voice still hoarse.

Leon looked at her, then past her, toward the horizon. "It didn’t feel like enough."

"It never does," she said. "Not if you care."

He didn’t answer.

Elena approached with a flask and held it out to him. "Drink. It’s not healing potion, but it’s warm."

He took it, nodded his thanks, and sipped. It was bitter, herbal. Probably brewed from what little survived around the battlefield.

"Any word from the outer camps?" he asked.

"Nothing yet," Elena replied. "I sent a crow spell an hour ago. Either they haven’t seen it... or there’s nothing left to see."

Leon exhaled through his nose. "We’ll find out at dawn."

Mira stirred. "We should move before then. This place—it’s cursed. I feel it."

Aelia’s brow creased. "Not cursed. Marked. It’ll fade with time."

"Will we?" Tomas muttered. He sat hunched, sharpening a blade with slow, deliberate strokes. "Fade?"

No one answered.

Leon finally broke the silence. "I saw it change, just before it died. Not just weaken—change. Like something left it. Or maybe... something was watching through it."

"You think it was possessed?" Elena asked.

"No. Something worse."

Aelia shifted, wincing. "You’re not wrong."

That got their attention.

"What do you mean?" Mira asked.

"The creature... it wasn’t just a construct or beast. It was a shard. A vessel."

"A vessel for what?" Tomas asked, half-rising.

Aelia stared into the fire. "I don’t know. But I’ve felt that kind of power before. Something ancient. And angry."

Leon’s jaw tightened. "So this wasn’t the end."

"No," she said. "But it was a gate. And we shut it."

Mira looked between them. "Then what comes next?"

Leon didn’t answer right away. He looked at the faces around the fire—tired, bruised, bloodied, but alive. Scarred in ways that wouldn’t heal with magic.

"We rebuild," he said finally.

"And after that?" Elena asked.

"Then we fight again."

Silence returned, broken only by the crackle of fire and the distant sigh of wind over ruined stone.

Somewhere far below, the crater still steamed. The remains of the creature—shards and twisted bone—lay buried in the ash. Whatever force had driven it was gone now.

But the damage remained.

As dawn’s first light began to edge the horizon in soft grey, Aelia spoke once more, voice quiet but firm.

"You’ll need allies. Real ones. Not just warriors."

Leon looked at her. "You offering to stay?"

"I’m offering to teach," she said. "Then, I’ll go."

"Go where?"

"To find the others," Aelia said. "The ones like me who didn’t fall. Who remember what the old war cost us."

Leon’s brows furrowed. "There are others?"

"Always have been," she said. "Scattered. Waiting. Preparing."

"For what?"

Aelia’s eyes narrowed slightly. "For what comes after this peace."

Leon nodded slowly. "Then we’d better be ready."

The wind picked up again, carrying with it the scent of ash, steel, and frost. The scars of battle would linger, but so would the memory of what they’d endured.

And as the sun finally crested the hills, its golden light spreading over bloodied stone and broken earth, none of them turned away.

They faced it.

Together.

By midmorning, the sun had risen fully—though its warmth never quite reached the ground. The winds shifted, bringing with them a faint scent of smoke from the west. Distant fires, maybe villages still burning. Maybe not.

Leon stood on the edge of the ridge, his cloak wrapped tightly, eyes scanning the broken landscape ahead. His fingers brushed the hilt of his sword—not to draw it, but to remind himself it was still there.

Behind him, the others had started moving.

Elena finished setting up a series of warding runes in the perimeter. Mira helped shift the bodies—both theirs and those that once served the creature—into piles. Some to be buried. Some to be burned. No one said it, but they all felt it: this place couldn’t be left untouched.

"We’ll build a cairn," Tomas said, breaking the quiet. "A real one. Names carved, proper stones."

Leon nodded without turning. "Do it."

Tomas hesitated. "There’s... a lot of names, Leon."

"Then start with ours," he replied. "We didn’t all walk away whole."

Aelia sat beneath what was left of a shattered arch, her back braced by one of the fallen pillars. Her breathing had steadied, but her colour was still off. She watched them work, her expression unreadable.

Mira crouched beside her, handing her a waterskin. "You really planning to leave again?"

Aelia nodded. "I have to."

"You could heal. Stay a few days at least."

"No time," she said. "This battle was loud. The kind of loud that draws attention. If the old enemy’s pieces are moving again, I need to know where."

Mira exhaled and rose. "We’ll be worse off without you."

"You’ll be better. I’ve seen it."

Leon finally returned to the camp. His armour was still scorched, part of one vambrace barely hanging on. He sat across from Aelia, pulled a strip of dried meat from his pack, and chewed slowly.

"You knew more than you told us," he said flatly.

Aelia didn’t argue. "Yes."

"And you didn’t warn us what that creature really was."

"It wouldn’t have helped. You would’ve gone in the same way. But now, you understand what’s coming."

Leon’s grip on the food tightened. "Then explain it."

Aelia looked at him. "There were six gates sealed in the old age. Each meant to hold something ancient, something born before the kingdom. That was one of them."

"And the others?"

"Still locked. For now."

Elena approached with a fresh set of robes draped over her arm. "You’re saying this was one of six? And each holds something like that thing?"

"Worse," Aelia replied. "That one wasn’t a true gatekeeper. Just a fragment left behind when the seal cracked."

Leon stood again. "If that was a fragment, then what happens when the real gate breaks?"

Aelia looked up at him, her voice calm. "The kingdom ends."

They all stood in silence.

"Do we have time?" Mira asked quietly.

Aelia’s gaze shifted toward the horizon. "Enough. If we act fast."

Leon glanced at the others. Tired, wounded, but listening.

"Then we prepare," he said. "And next time, we’re not just survivors. We fight before it breaks through."

Tomas arrived, his hands covered in soot and stone dust. "The cairn’s started. Took a while, but I think we can finish by dusk."

"Good," Leon replied.

Mira stepped closer to the ridge. "Should we send word to the capital?"

"We should," Elena said. "But who’s left to listen?"

Leon rubbed his eyes. "Send it anyway. Even if it’s just whispers. They need to know."

Elena nodded and began preparing the spell scrolls.

The morning passed slowly. Quietly. And for the first time since the battle ended, they allowed themselves to think about tomorrow.

Not the war. Not the gods.

Just... what came next.

Tomas sharpened his sword. freewebnσvel.cѳm

Mira sketched names into stone.

Elena wrote letters, sealing them with wax made from leftover candles.

And Leon, finally, allowed himself to sit and breathe—not because it was over.

But because they still had time.

And that was something worth holding onto.

By midday, a scout arrived.

Thin, bleeding from a shallow cut along the side of his face, he stumbled into camp from the northern pass. His cloak was torn, the insignia half-burned, but Leon recognised it—one of the forward scouts they’d sent out days ago.

Elena caught him before he collapsed.

"Breathe," she said, steadying him. "What happened?"

"Ambush," he rasped. "A day out. Something in the trees. Not beasts. Not people either. We lost seven. I ran."

Leon was already moving. "Where?"

The scout pointed with a trembling hand. "North-east ridge. A camp—refugees from the mountain towns. Gone now."

Aelia closed her eyes, jaw tight. "Too fast."

Leon crouched beside the man. "Did they look like the creature?"

"No," he said. "Smaller. Armoured. But the eyes—same glow."

Tomas swore under his breath. "You said there were no more."

"I said that was the final trial," Aelia said. "Not the final threat."

Leon stood slowly. "It’s spreading."

"It always does," Aelia replied. "When a gate cracks, its corruption leaks. Not all at once—but in fractures."

Mira paced back and forth. "So now we’re chasing shadows while rebuilding? Is that the plan?"

"We’re not chasing," Leon said. "We’re containing."

He looked toward the north-east, jaw tight. "We’ll split. Aelia stays here with the wounded. Tomas, Mira, with me. We ride light."

Aelia opened her mouth, but Elena spoke first.

"You’re in no condition to lead another fight."

"I don’t have a choice," Leon replied. "If we wait, more die."

Tomas picked up his pack. "Then we don’t wait."

Mira followed, grabbing her staff and a quiver of bolts. "Same formation as before?"

"Not this time," Leon said. "We scout first. No direct engagement unless we’re sure. I want to know what we’re dealing with."

The scout looked up, still pale. "They’re not just killing. They’re marking. Symbols in the stone. Runes I’ve never seen."

Aelia’s eyes narrowed. "Then the gate didn’t just open. It seeded."

Leon’s gaze hardened. "Then we root it out."

He didn’t raise his sword. Didn’t give a speech.

He just walked, cloak whipping behind him, smoke curling on the horizon as the sun dimmed again behind distant clouds.

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